


Anything Interesting

by Anonymous



Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sickfic, Soft Richard Strand, they just love each other a lot okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24548881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Alex can tell something is up with Strand just by how he stares down the article he tries to read.
Relationships: Alex Reagan/Richard Strand
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28
Collections: Anonymous





	Anything Interesting

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Alex tells herself that the academic journal in her hands made more sense once. She turns the page anyway, and tells herself that she can just read it again later. It’s decades old, full of untranslated passages of coptic Egyptian, hopefully something that Strand can translate, or have someone else translate for them.

Howard Strand’s study has found its place around them in the middle of Strand’s living room. All of the information that the man had had on Tiamat or whatever else he could have been looking for sits in boxes and manilla folders that have slowly moved from the small room upstairs to the kitchen table, and now to the coffee table and floor. 

There’s a system to the madness. As they move from one part of the house to the next, the boxes of books and papers that are further away are ones that they’ve already looked through. Promising materials sit near the hallway, the undiscovered is clustered around them in a way that only Strand really understands. 

The scene is still rather intimidating.

Alex gives up on the journal in her hands. She takes a sip of cold coffee and swallows down the lingering bitter taste that only cold decaf has. 

They’ve worked through the night together, unable to sleep through the system of thunderstorms. Strand can’t sleep through the noise and the shadows cast from the lightning flashes have made Alex yelp more than once. He had brought out all of the lamps from the study and bedroom and turned them on in the living room to leave them in a constant golden glow. It has worked to keep her calm, but it has also kept them awake. 

In her small break from reading, Alex allows herself one long look at Strand. He sits on the floor of the living room, his computer on the coffee table in front of him, a hand resting against one side of his face to ease away the pain of a headache. Alex can see just by watching him that there’s more than just a headache troubling him. He had added honey to his tea earlier, and the way he’s brushed his hands through his hair has made him look disarranged. 

It can’t help that he’s reading through one lens of his glasses. The way his hand rests against his face presses one of the lenses up, making him look crooked. Alex can’t imagine the stress he’s putting on his eyes by staring at a bright screen for hours without a break.

“Do you want anything for your headache?” She asks, taking another sip of her cold, bitter coffee. 

He startles a little at the sound of her voice, like he’s fallen asleep with his eyes open. His hand moves slowly away from his face and fixes his glasses. “I’m fine,” he says after a long blink. His voice is darker and soft, Alex’s heart aches at the sound of it.

She prods a little, “we can take a break if you want.” Alex stands and stretches, just to pop her joints. “I’ll make you some more tea.”

Strand allows her to take his empty tea mug from the table, but doesn’t stop looking at the article on the screen in front of him. She can see the lines of text reflected in his glasses and how slow they move in the reflection. 

He’s a speed reader, she reminds herself. 

Alex knows he won’t let her get away with giving him a Sleepytime tea blend. She rinses out the mug in the sink and turns the kettle on. Earl Grey sits on the counter, partially open next to a small jar of honey. She considers it, but reaches into the cabinet in front of her instead. She finds a box of herbal tea with lemon and spearmint labeled on the front of it and places a bag of it in the empty mug. 

The kettle continues to heat up, but Alex knows that it takes a few minutes to get hot enough for tea. She glances towards Strand, who is still where she left him, his hand back against his face. It’s the only thing keeping him from resting his head on the cool wood finish of the table. She can tell from the slight scowl on his face that he isn’t reading, that this is all just to make a point to her that he’s fine.

Alex is sure he doesn’t notice when she sneaks off towards the first floor bathroom. She opens the medicine cabinet and moves around all of the bottles until she finds a night-time pain reliever. She hopes that he won’t read the bottle when she brings it to him. She finds the regular one as well and considers switching the contents of each bottle to trick him. 

Instead, she takes both of them with her. If she has to fight him on it, she’ll resort to tricks. For now, she just needs him to rest. 

When she returns to the kitchen, the kettle is almost at a boil. Alex waits until it rumbles and gurgles, listening to the way Strand tries to hide a cough. It sounds painful enough that Alec winces out of empathy. She turns it off when it reaches a boil, just before it turns itself off, and pours the hot water into the mug with the tea bag. 

It smells wonderful, like a faint perfume. Strand will know right away that it isn’t Earl Grey, but he’ll know by the scent of lemon that it isn’t Sleepytime tea. Alex has a feeling that it’ll keep his griping at bay. She adds honey to it and stirs it in before returning to the living room with it and two bottles of tylenol. 

The same article is reflected in his glasses. She sets the mug back down in front of him. He watches her as she fights with the bottle of night-time Tylenol. Her hands are careful to keep the label from him as she hands him two slender pills. She hopes he doesn't know that non-drowsy Tylenol is white. 

“Here,” she says, holding them out to him.

He blinks slowly, giving in to her just this once. He accepts the two pills without complaint. “Thank you,” he says quietly, and swallows them down with a sip of tea. 

She’s told him before that the podcast can wait, that she can produce an episode or two without him. Alex realizes that she had told him that when Charlie had contacted them, and he hadn’t taken much of a break then. She knows he won’t take a break to get over his headache, if it is just a headache. At the very least, she’ll consider it a success to get him to lie down for a few moments. 

He’s good at pretending to notice she isn’t watching him, she thinks as she takes her place back on the couch. After a few minutes, he moves from the computer to a manilla folder at his side and starts to look through the papers, squinting at the words. He writes some notes and Alex can tell by how his hand moves that they aren’t going to make much sense. 

She takes comfort in the fact that the tea is gradually working. Strand rests his head in his hand and looks at the computer screen in front of him, blinking slowly and trying to make sense of the words. Every so often, he closes his eyes for a long second, then fights to focus back on the work in front of him. Alex wonders if she’ll see him fall asleep sitting up like that, or if he’ll pass out and smack his head on the table before he lets up.

His eyes close for another long second, Strand’s head dips just a little, and she decides then to prevent the inevitable.

She stands carefully and moves her belongings from the couch. He moves at the sound of her moving and watches her as she places her laptop on the floor beside a stack of books she wasn’t reading. She moves her phone to the table beside the couch. 

Alex moves quickly, she takes his hand from his face and he nearly falls into her. Her other hand rests against his forehead, she can feel the fever burning under his skin before he pulls away as quickly as he can. He’s more awake now, and frowning.

“I’m fine, Alex.” 

It’s hard to contain her worry. She knows he knows that she’s worried. His fever isn’t that high, but she knows just how uncomfortable he must be. 

“You’re not okay,” she states. 

He takes another sip of tea, his voice is a little stronger, but still waning. “I don't need you to coddle me.” He sets his tea down and gets up. She can tell he’s going to try to walk off to some other part of the house, but Alex closes his laptop and rests her hand against it. 

“Just lay down for a while,” Alex says. She nearly calls him Richard, and the thought makes her take a step back. Alex compensates for her awkwardness by motioning to the empty couch. 

He sighs, “I’d rather not.” Richard crosses his arms over his chest in a way that reminds her of a child arguing for an extra hour before bedtime. 

“Why?”

“This is more important.” 

“The black tapes can wait.”

“Thomas Warren can’t.” 

She huffs and stands up straight, crossing her arms as well. “Just a quick nap? I’ll wake you up.” 

He looks up at her, clearly exhausted. “I’m fine, Alex,” but his voice fades to a near whisper.

She wonders if he knows he’s repeating himself. If he were fine, they both know he would counter her with an actual argument. 

“Humor me, Richard.” She says, and at her plea, he takes his glasses off and rubs at his face. 

He exhales a little, it turns into a small cough. “Promise you’ll wake me up if you find anything?”

Alex nods, “I swear, I’ll wake you up if I find anything interesting.” 

She takes him by the wrist and leads him through the labyrinth of papers they’ve created to the couch. Alex doesn’t say anything about how clumsy he is as she steadies him. Without another complaint, Strand sits down and rests his head against the back of the couch, resting his arm over his aching eyes.

“Anything,” he says softly, “I don’t care if it isn’t interesting,” he says, melting into the cushions of the couch. 

“You’re going to hurt your neck if you sleep like that.” 

She can tell he would sigh if it didn’t send him into a coughing fit. He lays down on the couch and stretches out. Blindly, he places his glasses beside her phone and gets comfortable against one of the pillows. It’s hard to think of him as ‘Strand’ or ‘Dr. Strand’ when he softens like this, allowing her to cover him in a quilt. The man in front of her pulls at her heart in a way that makes her blush. She’s grateful that he’s nearly asleep, unable to see how flustered she is just by resting her hand on top of the quilt, stroking his arm. 

The blinds are already closed to keep out the now afternoon light. Alex is careful to stand silently and turn off a few of the lamps he had brought in for her. She returns to the couch and sits down in front of it as he sleeps. She watches him breathe, sleeping safe from nightmares under her careful watch. 

The entire thing feels  _ right _ . It scares her. 

It’s odd to see him so still, she realizes after a few moments of watching. She’s always so used to him turning a page, or looking back at her, silently nodding his head towards the door if they need to speak privately, or offering her coffee, a book, a hand. So much of their time had been spent together in a series of small movements, that the lack of those movements feels stark and empty. 

She fills it with her own movements as she brushes his dark hair back from his face. It’s just as soft as she thought it would be, and she can’t stop herself from doing it again. He doesn’t move under her touch, not even when she lingers against his face. Already, the Tylenol has muted the fevered heat of his skin and dragged him down deep into sleep. 

The promise she had made to him, to wake him up if she found anything interesting evaporates in her mind as she protects him from what they’ve both seen. The nightmares stay away as she stays by his side, busying herself with the few work emails she has. She sends a few texts to Nic before moving on to a few app games.

It’s late evening when he wakes, she keeps him there, gives him another mug of tea and a dose of Tylenol. Alex let’s him whisper feverishly with what’s left of his voice about how they have to return to work-- he asks if she’s found anything and doesn’t give her a chance to answer as he talks about wanting to call the office in Chicago, something about an article and an obelisk. Before she can understand, he’s out. As he drifts back to sleep as she continues to play with his messy hair and still, Alex can’t think of anything she would rather do. 


End file.
